The Map Never Lies
by SinCalledSloth
Summary: Fred and George spot something very odd on the marauder's map. That just couldn't be right...but the map never lies.


Drarry; The Map Never Lies

"Oi, George."

Fred and George were spending their Sunday afternoon lazing about in the common room, making a effort to NOT study for the end of the year exams. The fact that the exams were coming up soon was obvious—everyone else in the common room either had their head buried deep in a book, or looked like nervous wrecks. A lot of students were a unhealthy combination of both those aspects. However, Fred and George looks perfectly relaxed; George sketching down some ideas for their next Weasley product, and Fred was lounging in one of the overstuffed chairs, lazily browsing over the marauder's map.

"Yes, Fred?"

Fred leaned forward, showing George the map. He pointed to a particular point on the map with a confused expression on his face.

"Doesn't that seem a bit odd to you?" he asked.

George tilted his head, squinting to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"Is that…?"

"That, George, is the broom closet on the third floor."

George struck an overly exaggerated thinking pose "But Fred, that just can't be right."

Fred nodded "That's what I thought too. But you know, the map never lies…"

Then George looked up, and when his eyes met Fred's, they mirrored the same mischievous spark. The twins both gave each other a devious smirk.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You know I am."

"We should go to the third floor, just to make sure the map isn't acting up…"

Fred and George stood in sync, heading towards the common room entrance. Just as Fred stepped out the door, George swooped down on Collin (who was even more twitchy than usual from the stress of exams) and delicately snatched up his camera.

"Hey, what are you—"

George waved at Collin as he stepped into the hall after Fred "you'll have it back mate, Fred and I will just be needing this for a little while"

Fred winked "You'll thank us later, promise" and then the entrance closed and Fred and George were running top speed to the third floor.

"Well?" George asked impatiently.

Fred removed his ear from the broom closet door, nodding solemnly.

"It's exactly as we thought brother. Indeed, the map never lies."

George shook his head and shook his finger in a little tut-tut motion. "On the count of three then?"

Fred grinned madly as George held the camera up, ready to snap a picture.

"One…" Fred began to count.

George held the camera steady, barely able to control his own grin.

"Two…."

"Oh get on with it already!"

"THREE!"

Harry was suddenly blinded by a very bright light, and for a moment he saw stars. He turned to the right to see what in the world was going on, and Draco did the same, although it was a bit of a feat considering the small size of the broom closet and the close proximity of the boy's bodies. Then the flash was gone and Harry's blood ran cold.

Roaring with laughter, the twins stood outside of the broom closet door, and George—or was it Fred?—held in his hand…a camera.

Harry turned to Draco with a look of pure horror. Just before the door had been yanked open the two had been doing some pretty heavy snogging—and their ruffled hair and loosened ties made it obvious that that was exactly what they had been doing in that broom closet.

Draco's face had gone pale—if it was even possible for him to get any paler—and he looked absolutely horrified. Harry quickly untangled himself from the slytherin but the damage was already done.

Draco's expression turned from shocked to infuriated. He glared at the two red headed mischief makers but before he had time to pull out his wand, or yell, or threaten, the two were halfway down the hall, roaring with laughter as they ran from the scene.

After they were sure that Draco was not running after them in a murderous rampage, Fred and George stopped to catch their breath.

"Their faces!" George practically had tears running down his face from laughter.

Fred stood up straight, finally regaining control of his breath. His sides hurt from laughing.

Then the twins looked at each other proudly and exchanged giddy high fives.

"Mischief managed!"


End file.
